


Ersatz

by thedevilchicken



Category: X-Men (Movieverse), X-Men (Original Timeline Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Sex, Antagonism, Explicit Sexual Content, Fights, Hate Sex, M/M, Rimming, Rough Sex, Spit As Lube
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-20
Updated: 2016-08-20
Packaged: 2018-08-10 00:39:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7823467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thedevilchicken/pseuds/thedevilchicken
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Logan has a proposition. Scott makes a choice.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ersatz

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Knowmefirst](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Knowmefirst/gifts).



> AU following X2.

Scott doesn't know what he's doing here. 

Okay, no, he knows what he's doing here, hovering at this door like a kid who's been sent to the principal's office and he guesses once upon a time he was, before he was a good guy, boy scout, team leader. But this isn't Xavier's office he's standing outside of and he's not fifteen years old now - hasn't been for fifteen years - and he's pretty sure he's there of his own volition. He could leave. He really could. He could turn right around and march straight back to his own room if he wanted to and it's not even far, it's just six doors down the corridor and a turn around the corner. It's not the room he used to share with Jean, before, because he doesn't even want to set foot in there again, but he guesses that's close, too.

He could leave but he doesn't and that's his choice. It's been his choice all along. He could've said no at any stage. 

He did say no the first time. He was tired and he was pissed and he was in no mood to be dealing with any of Logan's perpetual fucking bullshit, so when he turned up at Scott's door that night, maybe three months ago now, he told him _I'm not looking for your pity, Logan_ and shut the door right in his irritating face. But after that the idea was there: he hadn't been looking for it before that but there it was, in the back of his head, all night that night while he couldn't sleep and then every time they met in corridors and the dining room and times they were off the mansion grounds in uniform. Logan had propositioned him that night, casual about it, like it was the most normal thing in the world to suggest, like two guys who disliked each other as much as they did should even be in the same room half the time, let alone the same bed. 

But it was in his mind after that first night. It was in his mind that Logan wanted it. Logan thought it was the answer to a question neither one of them had ever asked, to the grief Scott still felt and maybe always would that he didn't feel like admitting he knew they shared. Logan seemed to think he'd make a good substitute.

"Logan, don't take this the wrong way but I think you're a self-centered jerk," Scott said the next time Logan showed up, four days later. 

Logan raised his brows. "And you think somehow I'm your number one fan?" he replied, leaning against the door frame so hard the wood of it almost started to creak. "Who ever said we needed to like each other?"

Scott told him it was the dumbest thing he'd ever heard in his life and he shouldn't've been surprised it was Logan who'd come up with it, then he shut the door in his face again. He was pretty sure he caught Logan's fingers but what the hell, it wasn't like he'd hurt for long and maybe it'd make him think twice about coming back again. But after that, it wasn't just the back of Scott's mind where the idea lurked. It pushed its way forward. It bubbled up while he was in the shower, stood out front and center at the breakfast table when Logan came in late like usual and drank all the coffee like it was going out of style. _Who said we needed to like each other?_ Logan had said, with that look on his face like that was obvious, and it got to Scott when he went out running in the morning, when he went to bed at night. They didn't like each other, they couldn't stand each other, so it all seemed like such pure idiocy. It _was_ pure idiocy. It absolutely was.

But then again, maybe Logan was right, though Logan being right didn't really bear close inspection for the good of Scott's mental health. Maybe they didn't need to like each other for what Logan was suggesting. Maybe it could actually work.

"And you're saying you don't think the fact we can't stand the sight of each other would kind of, y'know, get in the way?" Scott said the next time, half-incredulous, three days after. 

Logan shrugged, the muscles in his big shoulders working, and Scott didn't notice that, not at all. "Sometimes that just makes it better," Logan said, and the son of a bitch had the gall to look amused.

Scott shut the door in his face, just like before, and he leaned back against it after. He rubbed his face. He got his fingers in under his glasses with his lids screwed shut and he rubbed at his eyes. He was tired. He was pissed. And Logan, God damn him, was starting to make sense somehow, in spite of reason and all Scott's better judgement. When he jerked off in bed twenty minutes later, he was thinking about what Logan had suggested they do together. He was thinking about his hands around Logan's throat as they screwed, about how much weight the adamantium on Logan's bones must add to him and how it'd feel pressed down against him, about the tips of Logan's claws against his skin. And damn, maybe Logan was right: maybe hating each other _would_ make it better. 

Six days later, they came back in from a job they'd been sent out on together. And while Storm flew the jet, Logan watched Scott. He had his eyes on him the whole way in from Virginia and Scott pretended that he didn't see, pretended that he didn't notice, which he had to admit was pretty easy when nobody could see his eyes behind his convenient visor. They stripped out of their suits in the base under the mansion and Logan was right there with him in the locker room, watching him as he pulled off his boots, pulled off the leather suit, pulled off his underwear and switched out his visor for his glasses. Scott showered, acting like Logan being there made no difference to him at all, acting like the adrenaline of their successful job wasn't still in his veins, like he wasn't still pumped, like he wasn't thinking about Logan's twisted little suggestion and nothing else besides. 

_We should have sex_ , Logan had said, straightforward, leaning there in Scott's doorway. _You didn't hit every branch in the ugly tree and it's pretty clear your dumb ass finds me attractive. Jean's gone. We've gotta suck it up and get by._

The dumb thing was, everything else aside, Scott hadn't even thought to deny it: his dumb ass _was_ attracted to Logan. He might've wanted to break his hand on Logan's jaw just for saying Jean's name, but he was attracted to him in that sick way where he knew he shouldn't be but his brain and his body just disconnected a little on that point. He'd said no that night and that afternoon, after he'd showered off the post-mission grime, he went back upstairs into the mansion above and he ate dinner with the students and watched a movie in the rec room and then went back up to his room and pretended like he didn't notice Logan was lurking like a shadow the whole time. 

The next day, while Logan was out somewhere running errands like anyone but Xavier had ever gotten him to do as he was told - and even then results were pretty patchy - Scott pretended like he didn't let himself into Logan's room with the master key. When Logan got back, he pretended like he hadn't jerked off in Logan's shower instead of in his own, and the next day, the next night, while Logan was out doing who the hell knew what, drinking, fighting, it didn't help too much to speculate, he pretended he hadn't jerked himself off on his knees in Logan's bed. He was sure he knew. He was sure from the way Logan looked at him after, the dark, angry, hungry way he looked at him, that he had to know. And that night, as Scott was still towelling off his hair once he'd dressed after a shower, there was a knock on his door, right on cue. He tossed the towel onto the dresser and he opened up the door.

"I don't want to sleep with you, Logan," Scott said. 

"Bullshit you don't," Logan replied. 

"You're sure about that?" Scott said. 

Logan nodded tightly. He was clenching the doorframe so hard the paint started to crack under his hands. "I'm pretty sure," he replied. 

"What makes you so sure?"

"I can smell you in my room," Logan said. "You've been in there." 

"I have?"

Logan nodded again, the muscles standing out in his neck and in his shoulders. "Yeah, you have," he said. "I can smell you on my fucking sheets, Scott. You think I don't know what you've been doing?"

Then Scott smiled, a huge shit-eating grin right across his face, and he knew what'd happen the second that he did it. It happened. It was calculated. He stepped aside when Logan swung and the blow was only glancing but it stung like hell at his shoulder anyway, and he shoved the door shut behind the two of them once Logan was inside. Logan came back in again, teeth bared, and out came the claws, all six, both hands. He shoved Scott back against the door and buried his damn claws in it either side of Scott's shoulders, punched all six right through it, right down to his knuckles till they bled there, pissed off, on edge. Scott had gotten him there without even trying really hard and maybe Logan knew it was on purpose but right then it didn't seem to matter. Logan pulled in his claws and he punched Scott in the jaw. Scott swung back, hit Logan's shoulder, pretty damn near broke his hand on Logan's ridiculous metal-covered skeleton but that didn't stop either of them doing what they were doing, not by a long shot. 

It was stupid and Scott knew it 'cause he'd known it from the beginning. Who'd ever heard such a goddamn ludicrous thing as screwing around with the guy who'd made a play for your dead girlfriend, back when she was still alive? Who gave a damn about sex when they were still fucked up over someone they'd lost? But there they were, pulling at each other's clothes, shoving, tugging, buttons lost, Logan's shirt seams ripped, till they were down on Scott's bed in a hard, angry heap, clawing at each other. Scott yanked Logan into a kiss by his hair and Logan practically growled at him as he unbuckled their jeans, first Scott's, then his own. He shoved down Scott's underwear, shoved down his own. And goddamn if Logan didn't yank him straight over onto his front and yank him up onto his knees and Jesus, fuck, Logan's hands parted his cheeks and his tongue found his hole and okay, maybe Logan had been right because Scott gripped hard at the sheets as Logan's tongue rasped hot and wet against him. Two minutes later, when Logan spat into his hand and slicked his cock, when he pushed the head of it up against Scott's hole, maybe it really was better 'cause they couldn't stand each other. 

Logan fucked him and it was hard and fast and right on the borderline of painful but as Scott pushed back hard against him, as he got his hands up to the headboard for leverage and really shoved back up against him as hard as he could, Jesus it was good. The thrust of Logan's hips against his with their jeans shoved down around their thighs was enough to make the bed rock, to make the headboard beat against the wall and all Scott could think was he was lucky Storm was away and not listening to the two of them fucking. Logan growled as he grabbed at Scott's hips, as he pulled out then pushed in hard again as deep as he could go, skin on skin, sweat standing out down the line of Scott's spine. Scott groaned as one of Logan's hands closed tight around his cock and jerked him hard and rough and he came maybe a minute later, maybe not even that, hot and hard and tense and fucking angry against the sheets. Logan wasn't long after, the sound he made strangled down deep in his chest but Scott felt him push in deep and pulse and come right there inside him, panting like a fucking dog. Logan was basically an animal, maybe he should've expected it.

It was dumb, but they'd gone and done it. And Logan _was_ right. Fuck. Logan was right. 

He tried to deny it after, sure. He tried to pretend it hadn't happened, just washed the sheets and acted like Logan had never been in the room at all and Scott hadn't needled him into it in the first place like a total dick, the way Logan had always said he was. But he's been seeing him in corridors just like usual for days, a week, two. He's been seeing him across the room at breakfast and lunch and dinner, seeing him drinking beers out on the porch after dark when the students are all tucked up in their dorms, puffing on a damn cigar that ought to offend Scott's sensibilities but whatever, that's just Logan, and hell if he doesn't kinda like the smell of it anyway. He's been seeing Logan look at him like he knows, like he remembers, like it's right there in the forefront of his mind like it's in Scott's though he's pretended it's not. And it's been three weeks now. It's been nearly four. 

It's been long enough, Scott thinks. He's spent long enough jerking off in Logan's bed while he's not there just so the room smells like sex and his cologne the way he knows drives Logan crazy because he's had clear evidence of it. He's spent long enough ignoring the way Logan looks at him and not answering his door like maybe he's asleep or maybe he's just not there at all, like he'd be anywhere else. He wanted to pretend it wasn't happening. He wanted to pretend he'd never done it in the first place, but he did it, _they_ did it, and it's pretty tough to persuade himself Logan wasn't right when he was. He really was. He feels better and he should feel worse, but there it is.

He's outside Logan's room. He could leave if he wanted to; no one's forcing him to be there. He could go back to his room and jerk off in the bed he never shared with Jean and think about Logan's mouth on him or any of twenty fights they've had, fist-fights like Scott was ever going to win one, think about his bloodied lip and Logan's skin knitting together in an instant while Scott's takes days, sometimes weeks. But Logan's right: they can't stand each other, and that just makes it better. 

He knocks. Logan answers. 

"I don't want to sleep with you, Scott," Logan says, smirking. 

"Bullshit you don't," Scott says. 

"You're sure about that?"

"Pretty sure." 

"Why don't you prove it?"

So he does. 

Scott wishes he could say he doesn't know what he's doing here, but he knows 'cause he's known all along. As he pushes Logan back and steps into the room, he knows what he's doing 'cause he's thought about precious little else for weeks. As he locks the door and he takes off his clothes, strips down to his bare skin and his glasses, he knows. When Logan puts his hands on him, puts his mouth on him, when Logan pushes him down on his back and sucks his cock and lubes him up this time at the same time, liberal with it, sticky-slick gel-liquid getting all over the sheets like neither of them gives a damn, he knows. When Logan pushes into him propped up on his hands, when he wraps his legs up tight around Logan's waist and pulls him deeper, as they both groan, he knows. 

He doesn't need to like Logan to want him. And Logan's for damn sure not Jean, he's nothing like the same, but for right now he'll do.


End file.
